Radio Address to the
Nation on the Holiday Season and the Earthquake in Armenia

December 24, 1988

My
fellow Americans:

Tomorrow
is a day for celebration: celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ. Joy
envelops us, as it must have enveloped our ancestors 1,988 years ago when unto
us a Child was born. Our joy comes this happy season -- featuring Hanukkah as
well -- not merely from the family dinner at which we come together nor just in the delight that a small child takes in all the
sounds and smells and sights and a gift. It's not simply the crackle of a fire,
the tinsel on the tree, and the annual viewing of ``It's a Wonderful Life.''
Yes, all these things are joyous, indeed, but this is also a time for prayer, a
time for us to count our myriad blessings and reflect upon the joy that is ours
every day of every year.

Because
of the common stresses and strains of everyday life, we may be forgiven for
forgetting from time to time all that God has given us. One child has a fever;
another is grumpy; a third is asking why is the sky
blue, and all the while there are bills to pay and a roof that leaks. Sometimes
it all seems a little too much, and at these moments we look back with longing
to a time when our responsibilities did not seem so large. But this season
those responsibilities are revealed for what they truly are: the God-given
blessings that give our lives flavor and meaning. And the more responsibilities
of this kind we have, the greater are our blessings. For in this way we're
indeed made in the image of our Lord: At our best, our capacity to love seems
inexhaustible. We know at this time of year that all we must do is give of
ourselves, and in return we shall receive all that we have given and much, much
more.

We
know that there are those among us for whom the holidays are painful and
lonely. I know you join with me in hoping that this year they will take heart
and have faith. For the message of this most joyous holiday is that we are all
-- no matter what divides us -- we are all loved by a force greater than ourselves,
a love that surpasseth all understanding, a love that provides all the answers for those who feel lost
and alone during these remarkable days. We are not alone; we're never alone.

Now,
here in our country, there are children, without homes, suffering from dire
diseases, whose Christmases will be makeshift at best. But the miracle of human
generosity can and does transform the holidays for them. This year, as in years
past, your generosity has been breathtaking. Programs like Toys for Tots and literally
tens of thousands of local initiatives are examples of this nation's
determination to give all children a sense of what the Christmas spirit is and
what it can mean for them.

I
know all Americans have joined with me in grieving for those who perished in
the Armenian earthquake. Tragedies of this nature afflict our spirit; it's hard
to see why such a thing happens, what it might mean. But the Armenian people
are showing us they know they are loved. They know they can renew their
strength and rebuild and rededicate themselves to life.

We
have been witness to the breathtaking bravery of the people of Leninakan and Spitak
as they ready themselves for the task of going on. And, yes, they will go on,
for the Armenian people are made of hardy stuff. As Hazel Barsamian,
an American of Armenian descent, says, and I quote: ``We
have a history of this kind of tragedy. We are fighters. We are survivors. We
stand together, and we will survive.''

And
at a time of such terrible calamity, something happens in the world, something
worth thinking about at Christmastime. For a time, the real differences that
divide us -- and will continue to divide us -- fall away. Closed borders open.
Friends and enemies alike share the burden and hope to help. From Israel and war-torn Lebanon alike, supplies and aid
have been sent to Soviet Armenia. And from the United States the response has been
staggering: relief workers, tens of millions of dollars in private
contributions, food, clothing, a cascade of good will and fellow feeling.
Christmas is the time of the Prince of Peace, and we are therefore reminded yet
again that our differences are not with common people but with political
systems.

In
Armenia the birth of our Lord
is not celebrated until January 6th. It is an Armenian tradition that priests
travel to the homes of their flock and there make a special blessing with
bread, water, and salt, representing life and substance. This season, more than
ever, may the blessings of the priests over the bread and water and the salt
provide the Armenian people with the strength to persevere and triumph.

Nancy joins me in wishing all
of you a safe, sound, and, of course, a very Merry Christmas! Until next week,
thanks for listening, and may God bless you.

Note: The President recorded
the address on December 22 in the Oval Office at the White House for broadcast
at 12:06
p.m. on December 24.